


Holding on for Dear Life

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2181783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Allison's death, the McCall pack, lose themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keep my Glass Full Until Morning Light

Since the day Allison Argent died, Lydia Martin hadn't stopped running. She never stopped for anything or anyone, she couldn't let the past catch up with her. Because if she did it would destroy her. So she never looked back. Because it was all her fault.

It was a week since her best friend died, and Lydia sat in the same place she had been sitting in the bar for the past seven days.

"Three shots of vodka. Triple distilled. Quick." she instructed the waiter next to her.  
"Coming right up," he replied, winking at her.  
She rolled her eyes, and scanned the bar, spotting Scott sitting in his usual place, attempting, but miserably failing to do the same thing she now did every night. Drink away her problems. He looked tired, tonight, like he always did these days, and despite his supernatural healing abilities, it couldn't heal his emotional damage. Despite herself, she smiled. Seeing Scott sitting there always helped Lydia to remember she wasn't alone. He was suffering through the same loss as her.  
Allison. In that one moment, where she let her thoughts drift, everything that happened, suddenly came crashing over her. She remembered the exact moment where her heart fractured into a million pieces, and something inside her snapped, never to be repaired.

"On the house", said the waiter, "Are you okay?"  
Lydia became aware of the tears running uncontrollably down her face, and forced herself to smile at him.  
"I will be," she replied and downed the three shots, then ordered three more, before downing those too. After a few more, she began to forget again. She smiled then laughed. She knew she was drunk, and began to wonder if she had a drinking problem. Not that she cared.

She caught eyes with Scott who raised his drink to her, and smiled. She mimicked his action, and from across the bar the drank their shots simultaneously. 'He really tries', she thought, 'but no matter how much he drinks, he can never get drunk.'

Her vision started to blur, as she stumbled to the dance floor, where the strobe lights and music, made her feel like she could do anything. Dancing always seemed to cheer her up, maybe because she was drunk, or maybe because the only thing that gave her control these days, was being able to lose control. It didn't take long for her to forget completely, as she danced until the walls began to spin, and darkness surrounded her. The last thing she remembered was strong arms around her, lifting her up.

 

When Lydia woke up the next morning, she was lying back in her own bed, with a pounding headache. She groaned and sat up before noticing Scott passed out on the floor beside her. It warmed her heart knowing that Scott would take her home if she got into any trouble, to make sure she was safe. For him, the safety of everyone else came before the safety of his own. It was a motto she was inspired to live by now, and even after everything, today she felt happy, like things would finally be okay.


	2. And Then its Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I thought it would be interesting if all of the characters blamed themselves for Allisons death so yeah here goes.

Scott woke up the next morning to an empty room. His back hurt from the floor he slept on. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Lydia was no longer sprawled accross her bed in a deep sleep. She must have woken up early and left. Scott smiled. Normally after falling asleep on Lydia’s floor, he would wake to see her still out cold. Maybe things were beginning to look up. He opened the window and began to climb out when Natalie Martin entered the room.

"Scott", she started, evidently surprised, "Lydia never told me you were staying over."  
"Oh, I eh.." he began, unsure of what to say.  
"Yes..?"  
"I didn’t stay over, I was just checking in to make sure she got home safely." It was the truth, less the part about staying over, but Scott had to know she was okay. These days it was his job to look out for everybody. Self appointed job obviously, Stiles didn’t believe everyone was worth saving. But Scott just wanted it to end. The chaos, the terror, and above all everything slightly supernatural. Because all of the problems in the small town of Becon Hills had been caused by the supernatural, and Scott knew only too well that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t save everyone. Allison’s death had been his fault. Her blood was on his hands.  
He should have been there. He should have saved her. He had the power and he failed her. So now he had to save everyone else.  
Her last words words to him were that she loved him, and that she'd always love him, but in his moment of dispear he wasn't able to say the three most important words to her, and now he never could. He had believed fate would bring them together, but instead it ripped them apart, leaving Scott McCall broken and alone. And in literature, Shakespeare always takes Juliet first.

"Well since you have nothing to hide, Scott," smirked Ms Martin, "you don't need to be sneaking around, and climbing out windows. Stay for breakfast. Lydia's making pancakes! I don't know what you said to her Scott, but thank you. I haven't seen her this happy since-" she stopped abruptly. "Well a while anyway."  
Scott gave Natalie what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but probably turned out like an awkward grimace, and followed her down the stairs to the Martin's massive kitchen.

Lydia spun around. "Scott, why are you still here?" she asked.  
"I invited him for breakfast Lydia, so make him welcome," she glared at her daughter, "I'll leave you two alone now, so be nice." She strutted out of the room.  
Lydia paced the room, before sitting down next to Scott on the couch. "I'm sorry, that was harsh. Thank you for bringing me home last night Scott. Pancake?"  
"Sure."

A moment passed.  
"How are you doing Lydia?" asked Scott cautiously.  
"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" she snapped back, but her voice wobbled. "No actually, I'm not, and I'm sorry but I can't be. How do you do it Scott? One day she was here, and then suddenly she was gone. How are you still holding on?" The emotionless mask she had tried so hard to keep in place fell and the pain and sorrow she carried with her now was written all over her face. She collapsed onto Scott sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, as if just that could protect her, and keep her safe.  
"I know, I know," he mumbled, "but it's going to be okay, we have each other, we all do. We're a pack, and we're going to get through this together. I promise."  
Scott lied. He didn't believe he could ever recover, but he had to pretend, put on a brave face. For the pack.

Lydia hastely hopped up and wiped her eyes as her mother strutted back into the kitchen, eyeing up the pair suspiciously.  
"Mom I'm ready to go back to school. I'm not afraid. She never would have wanted me to be. I can be brave. For Allison." Lydia smiled. It was a genuine smile, and though it grew from tragedy, it planted hope in Scotts heart.  
"Oh sweetheart, are you sure?" asked Natalie.  
"I'm always sure. Lets go Scott, we don't want to be late. I'm driving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the song One Day by Kodaline :)


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles Stilinski stood in Beacon Hills graveyard. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there in truth, he had woken up in the middle of the night, and unable to get back to sleep he had made his way there. These days he spent most of his time standing over the grave. Her grave. For the hundreth time he read over the words darved into the headstone on front of him Here Lies Allison Argent, drumming his fingers anxiously against his leg. He hated this, he hated himself. Allison Argent should not be here. This was so so wrong and he knew it. It should have been him, lying six foot deep, eyes unseeing, skin cold. But instead it was her and she was- she was dead. Even thinking it filled Stiles with so much guilt and pain. And worst of all it was all his fault. Ha had failed to close the door in his mind. He killed Allison Argent.

He suddenly became acutely aware of his phone buzzing. Reaching into his pocket, hands shaking uncontrollably, and glanced at the screen. It was Scott. There were seven missed calls before that, but he couldn't see Scott, not now. He didn't understand how Scott could possibly forgive him for what happened, and thinking about it, he probably didn't. Stiles couldn't bare on top of it all looking into his best friends eyes and knowing his best friend probably looked back and saw a killer. Who wouldn't?

In a fit of rage and fury mainly directed at himself, he through his phone as far as he could, then turned around and slammed his fist into the trunk of the willow tree looming above him. Feeling very little, as his hands were cold and numb, he hit it again and again harder and harder until blood trickled down from his knuckles. Stiles let out a soft cry and fell to his knees. He ran his hands through his hair over and over, clawing at the back of his neck, before finally covering his face with his hands, and allowing himself to cry.

"IT'S NOT FAIR," he screamed, kicking out at anything near him.  
Stiles Stilinski was a desperate man.

 

Rain began to trickle down as he lay on the ground in silence, which soon became a heavy shower, washing away some of the blood that Stiles was only really vaugely aware of.

"Stiles?"

He opened his eyes to see Kira standing above him. She looked almost ashamed to find him lying here beside Allison's grave. She probably blamed him too he thought.

"I- ehm, Sorry I was just about to um leave," he stammered weakly, rising to his feet.  
"You don't have to, I was just here to drop off some flowers, I'm leaving now anyway. I-" she broke off awkwardly, and Stiles felt bad for her. She had never gotten to know Allison well but here she was anyway, doing just about the only thing she really could do, and out of kindness.

"I'm sorry Stiles," she continued after a moment, "I know she wasn't your great love, or your best friend, but she was still your friend. So I'm sorry. No one should have to lose a friend." She turned to walk away, and Stiles found herself calling after her.  
"Thanks," he said. "You don't have to leave if you don't want."

She smiled sadly and sat down beside him. "You need to get that looked at Stiles," she told him, nodding at his hand, "Talk to Scott."  
"Take your own advice," he retorted, though he appreciated her words a lot more than he let on.

With her sitting beside him, Stiles felt less lonely, less alone, than he had since that fatal day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I don't know how long this story will be, it greatly depends, and kudos, comments, and ideas very welcome :)  
> Loosely inspired by the song Chandelier by Sia.


End file.
